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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27736228">How Soon Is Now?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrissy_lee/pseuds/Snowbaz-Mama'>Snowbaz-Mama (chrissy_lee)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack Treated Seriously, Enemies With Benefits, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, I Will Go Down With This Ship, It's Politics, It's not personal, Libraries are Hot, M/M, Mal!Mage, My First Smut, Raiding Family Heirlooms Under Weak Pretenses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:48:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,209</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27736228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrissy_lee/pseuds/Snowbaz-Mama</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Mage is back at Pitch Manor. What is he really looking for? Malcolm Grimm intends to find out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daphne Grimm/Malcolm Grimm, Malcolm Grimm/The Mage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>How Soon Is Now?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, the thing is...I saw this incredible drawing on the very talented <a href="https://super-duper-twelve.tumblr.com/">Super Duper Twelve's</a> Insta feed and I could.not.get.it.out.of.my.mind. I have another long fic I am attempting to finish but was sidelined with an effing concussion, and of all the things I could have been working on, this is it?</p>
<p>Yeah, it is. And, I branched out because it's smutty and I'm not sorry. It's also un-betaed because I just needed it out of me. (My wonderful beta TheyIs was very understanding of my urges, luckily.)</p>
<p>Thank you, also, for the encouragement of <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaCorvo/pseuds/BellaCorvo">Bella Corvo</a> who was going to let me join her collection, but then I chickened out! Your Mal!Mage stories are amazing! </p>
<p>So...here's this awkward ship fic that I will never ship again (unless someone draws some super-hot drawing of it again, of course). Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I knew he’d be back - I just didn’t realize how soon. I didn’t think it would be now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as I heard the Land Rovers coming up the drive in the distance, I sent Daphne into our rooms and instructed her not to open the doors until I came upstairs in person and gave her the all clear. We checked on the children, making sure they were asleep and their doors were shut tightly, then I gave her a quick peck on the cheek, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, darling - I’ll handle this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Malcolm,” Daphne says, clutching her dressing gown, “what do they want with us? Again?” She grasps my hands, squeezing them in worry. I squeeze back in response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To give us a fright. To pretend they’re in charge. To give him some leverage with the Coven - to let them carry on with the taxes, tithing, and reforms and so forth. Put it out of your mind, dear -- just stay safely away. I’ll come up straight away when they’ve gone.” I gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She smiles, nods, then closes our bedroom door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I turn and tiptoe downstairs, careful not to wake the children. I head to the library, turn the lantern lights to low, and find myself drifting towards the window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now I wait, standing by the long windows of the library, drapes pushed aside ever so slightly. The cars stop. I see him stepping out of the first dark green Land Rover, clad in his usual hunter green collared shirt and tan breeches. He stands with his hand on the open door and one booted foot propped up on the running board, appraising the front of the manor in the moonlight, looking from window to window. I startle and involuntarily step back behind the curtain, hoping he didn’t notice me standing there looking at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other two Rovers park in line behind him. One man from each steps out into the drive now. He closes his car door and with a nod of his head, his men follow him as his boots crunch up the gravel driveway, striding up to the front door. He stops, flanked on each side, and knocks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I swallow hard and run a hand through my slicked-back hair, moving to the library door to better hear what he says to Vera when she opens the front door. She’s already been instructed to let them in and then go to her rooms for the evening. Loud, indistinguishable voices get closer and closer to the door as I hear footsteps echo off in different directions, but one set of footsteps slows and stills on the other side. My breath does a sharp intake as I move away from the window and face one of the ceiling-tall bookshelves, my back to the rest of the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What could the Mage possibly want this time?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I think I know what he wants, but I don’t want to think about it or let myself acknowledge the truth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door creaks open, then quietly clicks shut. Heavy footfalls step across the room slowly, boots snapping against the hardwood library floor. I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it you’re here for, David?” I ask as coldly as I can manage. “This is the second time this month. Surely the Coven has collected enough artifacts from my home to fund your car insurance through the next quarter?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmmmph. Is that what you think we do with your belongings, Grimm? Pawn them off to fill the coffers of the Coven’s accounts?” he replies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What else would you want with priceless Grimm animal husbandry spellbooks and fire magic tomes by the Pitches?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re important to our work, Malcolm.” I shudder involuntarily as I feel him step closer behind me, as I hear my name come out of his mouth in his cocksure swagger and his rough country accent. He’s right behind me now. I feel rather than hear his next words come out in a puff of hot breath on the back of my neck, so close to my ear I can feel his energy, his magic, zip down my spine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can’t have any illegal spell books lying around getting into the hands of our most vulnerable mages, now, can we?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nod my head side to side slightly as he presses himself against my back, wrapping his hands around my waist. I feel him through his breeches, already half-hard as he leans against me, placing his lips into the crook of my neck. I sigh involuntarily, cocking my head to the side to let him in as he trails light kisses down under my collar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I spin around, unable to take it anymore. I want to see his face - his ridiculous moustache, his tousled golden hair. I look up to meet his green eyes, but his are already on me. The intensity of his stare is making me blush, so I close my eyes as I lean in hesitantly. I gently cup my hand around his neck, pulling his face back towards mine. He lets out a low growl as he nuzzles his face into my jawline and wraps his arms around my waist possessively, pressing into the front of me and pushing me backwards until my back hits the bookcase. I gasp at the contact, my heart racing at the friction and rough push and pull of his beard against my smooth skin, at his tight breeches leaving nothing to the imagination.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something feral lights up within me as he begins sucking on my earlobe. I throw my arms around his back, scrambling to grab onto the leather strap of his holster with one hand and grabbing his arse with the other as I grind up against him, my lips reaching up to find his and murmuring, “Well, I can tell you what I want, </span>
  <em>
    <span>David</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I hiss at him, reaching up and biting on his lower lip, making him hum in approval.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmmmm...and what is that, may I ask, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Malcolm</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” he responds breathlessly, pulling away for a moment and stroking back my hair with both hands. I hear a soft yearning in his voice and I mentally stumble as I quickly recalculate my reply - he’s not usually this soft, this gentle with me. I don’t know what to do with this version of the Mage. If we can’t be as rough with each other in dark, locked rooms as we are at Coven meetings, what are we even doing? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” I don’t know how to respond to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, I respond with my body. I push back against him until we hit the chaise lounge in front of the windows, push until he stumbles backwards, push until he’s sprawled out under me. I reach down and grab at the straps of his holster frantically, unbuckling them with furious gracelessness as he unbuttons my waistcoat. Becoming impatient with unfastening my button up, he rips my shirt open like a brute, the buttons flying everywhere, plinking and skittering across the wood floor. I gasp, lowering myself down on top of him, his spread legs bracketing my thighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We moan into each other’s mouth, our breath hot and urgent. I reach down between us, unbuckling his leather belt and yanking down his breeches and pants as far as they’ll go (damned tall leather riding boots - but fuck if they aren’t hot as Hades). I slow down, stretching out my arm between our bodies until I’ve grabbed on to his cock. He’s already leaking, anticipating my touch. I pause to quickly cast a </span>
  <b>
    <em>Silence is Golden</em>
  </b>
  <span> and an </span>
  <b>
    <em>Under Lock and Key </em>
  </b>
  <span>on the room, then begin stroking him, slowly. He arches up into my hand, squeezing his eyes and groaning with pleasure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Malcolm,” he whispers. The sound of my name on his lips makes something go tight inside my chest. I will not allow this man, this monster, to make me feel anything but animal lust towards him, so instead of responding, I cast a </span>
  <b>
    <em>Slippery When Wet</em>
  </b>
  <span> and speed up, watching him come apart under me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please...let me...uhhhhh…” he grunts, his hips sputtering uncontrollably as he finally releases into my fist, sinking back into the chaise with heaving breaths. He reaches up for my face and I involuntarily lean into his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Malcolm. You’re so…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” I say, trying to lean back quickly, instantly regretting how I let his touch make me feel - like hotness, not just melted but molten. But he sits up quickly, grabbing for my shoulders and brings me back into him, planting a gentle kiss on my lips, pushing his tongue into my mouth as he pushes me down onto the other side of the chaise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. It’s my turn now.” His voice has turned dominant, more like the head of Coven I know and hate. That voice usually spars me on, to argue. But hovering above me, so close to me, it just makes me </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I came here to take from you. I plan on following through with my job,” he growls. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I close my eyes and feel him unbuckling my belt, gently lowering my trousers. He unties my Oxfords, removing them before slipping my trousers and pants all the way off. “I want to see you spread out, Malcolm. Mine for the taking.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My legs part for him as he kisses his way down my neck, stopping to suck on one nipple, then the other. Daphne has never put her mouth here, and the contact shocks me. I moan deep in the back of my throat, which only seems to egg him on. He licks, then gently sucks while he rolls his fingers around my other nipple. I continue moaning and I feel him smiling against me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pleased with himself, he continues, leaving light kisses down my chest as I reach up and run my fingers through his hair. He strokes my chest hair and leans into the soft spot at the crook of my waist, sucking and licking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He moves his head to my navel as he gently grasps my hardening cock, and I gasp. I lean back and squeeze my eyes shut and feel his rough beard scratch across my stomach, trailing down, down, down. We’ve never done this before. It’s not like him to ask, and he doesn’t, but I know that he knows I want to feel his rough hands and horrible mouth on me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pauses for just a moment, scooting down the chaise, then gives a tentative lick on my tip. I gasp, then find myself spewing a litany of words as his tongue moves up and down my length and all of me finally enters his warm mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’ve been married twice. I have many children. I know how to use my cock. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But fuck if I’ve ever had it used like this before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before I know it I’m seeing stars behind my eyes. “David...I’m...oh Merlin...fuck me, I’m going to…” I explode in a panting, shaking mess. He’s swallowed all of me down. He looks at me, smirking. I want to reach up and kiss that knowing look off his face, to breathe in his sharp scent of leather polish and pine woods and motor oil. But before I can talk myself into it, he’s sprung back up off the chaise, pulling up his breeches and refastening himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I sit back up on my elbows and watch him dress, appreciating that for all his bluster, the man is a stunning physical specimen. All those adventures galloping through the countryside with his men and Simon Snow by his side, facing the Humdrum, must do wonders to one’s body. I watch the stretch of his shirt across his back as he buttons it back up, the way the leather strap of his holster wraps around his muscles, the way his powerful thighs fill out his breeches. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After he’s dressed, he moves quickly back to the bookshelves, rifles through a few of the books, and then selects one at random from one of the shelves. He holds it up, a smug grin on his face. It’s my grandmother’s copy of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Magickal Butchery and Knife Skills: A Fundamental Guidebook</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’ll be taking this then, Mr. Grimm. Thank you for your time.” He gets to the door of the library in three strides, but then he pauses. He gives me a quick glance over his shoulder, his eyes roving up and down my still-naked body spread out on the chaise, then turns and walks out, clicking the door shut behind him.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I wonder how I got here - a naked, sated mess, my perfectly slicked back hair mussed like I”ve just been shagged (Is that what I am? Well-shagged?), my wife and children upstairs, while this horrendous man and his lackeys are running wild through my home, stealing my family’s most precious possessions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But I know how, deep down: power attracts power. He wants to be me. I want to be him. Two powerful mages can’t both be in charge at the same time. One of us will win this struggle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And one of us will lose. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh yeah, and I'm tangentially on Tumblr @<a href="https://snowbaz-mama.tumblr.com/">Snowbaz-Mama</a></p>
<p>I have no clue how to Tumblr, but I do like looking at it and following you all. so I'll just keeping doing that!</p>
<p>I also wanted to add that while I wouldn't have an issue with Malcolm getting with someone else besides his wife if they had an arrangement of some sort, it's clear that he's cheating on Daphne and that woman is a gem. Malcolm and the Mage are trash, so please do not take this fic as any kind of endorsement of them as human beings. But, you know, they both have BDE, so there we go.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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